Child Support (mf, ff, nc, md, mc, in)
Although we were unable to discuss what had happened that day, we both knew how the other felt. When one of us sensed the other thinking about it and becoming melancholy, we would simply give each other a smile and a warm hug and reassure ourselves that we were going to survive.
In the days that followed the stranger’s appearance I came to think of his actions as “the rape”. I didn’t think of it as “the rape” because I felt that I had raped my mother but because I felt that he had raped both of us.
About a month later life had returned to some semblance of normalcy and my mother and I sat in the living room watching television. It was just after 8:00 and one of those annoying rip-offs on a popular sitcom was about to start when the phone rang. My mother reached over and answered it while I went into the kitchen to pour myself another glass of Coke. When I returned to the living room I heard my mother moving around upstairs so I resumed my position on the couch and prepared for another uneventful evening.
About fifteen minutes later my mother came back downstairs dressed in an outfit I had never seen before and never thought I would ever see her wear. She was wearing a short black mini-dress that was barely long enough to cover her ass and scooped so low in the back that I could almost see the top of her butt crack. There was so much cleavage showing in the front that it was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples were clearly visible through the tight but flimsy fabric. On her legs she wore black nylon stockings with a garter showing clearly at the top and on her feet she wore a pair of black pumps with the highest heels I have ever seen in my life. Her face was plastered with make-up, including bright blue eye shadow and bright red lipstick. The overall effect was to make her look cheap and easy which my mother was not.
As she stopped to get her car keys from the table in the front hall I got up and walked towards her and asked her what was going on.
She ignored my question and kept rummaging through the drawer for the missing keys, apparently oblivious to my presence.
I reached out to grab her arm but just before I made contact I found that my arm wouldn’t move. I pulled it back and tried again but the same thing happened the second time. I moved around to place myself between her and the door, intending to keep her from leaving but as she finally found the errant keys and turned to go, I found myself involuntarily moving out of the way. I ran after her but as I reached the door, it was like I had hit a brick wall. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t go through that door. I stood there helplessly, yelling at her to stop as she climbed into the car and drove away without saying a word.
I was in a panic. I picked up the phone to call the police but then I thought about what I was going to tell them. She had left on her own with no one apparently coaxing her and no indication that any harm would come to her. I knew who was behind her strange behavior but since I couldn’t tell anyone about him the knowledge was useless. In addition, if the police did investigate and found my mother alive and well and having a good time, she might be considered an unfit mother for leaving me alone and they might try and take me away from her.
Suddenly feeling completely alone and powerless, I sat down in the big easy chair and started to cry. I must have cried for at least an hour before I remembered how strong my mother had been following “the rape” and wiped the tears from my eyes. If she could be that strong after everything that she had been through, how could I fall apart at the first sign of trouble? I sat up straight in the chair and decided that I would wait right there for her to return. The last thing I remembered was the clock on the wall striking midnight as I finally gave in to exhaustion and faded off to sleep.
The next thing I knew I was being awakened by a tug at my pants. As I opened my eyes I looked down and saw that my mother had returned and was in the process of trying to undo my pants. The hungry look in her eyes made me realize that she wasn’t thinking rationally and was acting more like an animal than a human being at that point. I tried to move and push her away but I found that my body wouldn’t obey my commands again. I was becoming extremely annoyed at the habit my body was making of only working part of the time when my mother finally lowered the zipper on my pants and nearly pulled me out of the chair as she ripped them off of me with one big yank.
Tossing the pants aside, she lunged at me with animal ferocity and in a demonstration of unnatural strength, she ripped my underpants off with her bare hands, exposing my penis to the cool morning air. The sight of my cock made drool run down her chin as she salivated at the idea of sucking every last ounce of cum from my body. Suddenly she pounced and swallowed my entire penis in one large gulp. Where her previous blowjob had been slow and gentle this one was wild and ferocious but no less arousing. She began sucking at my member with the power of a vacuum cleaner while she made loud slurping sounds.
Within minutes she had pushed me over the brink of orgasm as I began shooting load after load of sperm down her throat and into her gullet.
As the flow began to ebb she started milking my rapidly deflating penis with her mouth while her hands massaged my balls, trying to get every last drop. Finally she had swallowed my last drop of cum and I felt completely drained but more alive than I had ever felt before. For several minutes she licked my cock clean of any remaining traces of my semen before looking up at me with a mischievous smile on her face. In a voice that sounded cold and evil she said to me, “My master says that this is a reward for almost beating him”. As the words left her mouth, she collapsed on the floor unconscious and I found that I could move again.
I leaped from the chair and gathered her in my arms. I wiped the hair from her face and after a few seconds she began to revive.
As she regained consciousness and the realization of what she had done hit her, she began sobbing uncontrollably.
I held her close to me and let her beat on my back as she released all the anger and frustration that she had been keeping inside.
As the sobs began to come farther apart, the blows to my back began to lose their ferocity.
I held her up and looked straight into her eyes and said, “What would you like for breakfast?” She smiled weakly as I helped her to her feet and reminded her that she still had to work that day. As she climbed the stairs to get ready for work, I grabbed my discarded pants and put them on, deciding that the underwear was a total write-off. My mother took an inordinately long shower that morning but after what I surmised she had been through the night before, I really wouldn’t have blamed her if she hadn’t come out of the shower all day. When she finally came back down about an hour later, dressed in her usual work clothes, I had made coffee and prepared a sumptuous feast of bacon, eggs and buttermilk pancakes. As she sat dejectedly staring at the food, I reached down and kissed her on the forehead, trying to share some of my strength with her in what must have appeared as her darkest hour. I whispered in her ear, “The food won’t jump off the plate, you’ll have to go after it”.
She smiled at my joke and took a bite of a pancake and a sip of coffee. “This is really good”, she commented looking a little more cheerful. “You’ll have to make breakfast more often” she joked.
My only response was a fake groan of depression as I sat down to eat my own breakfast.
As the meal progressed we made small talk and almost forgot the morning’s events.
The clock in the living room chimed the hour and my mother looked at her watch and said, “Shit! I’m going to be late”. She gulped down one last drink of coffee as she ran for the front door, grabbing her briefcase as she passed through the front hallway. I heard her yell, “I’ll call you later”, as she climbed into her car and drove away.
I sat at the table for several minutes with the image of my mothers mischievous smile etched in my brain and the words, “My master says that this is a reward for almost beating him”, ringing in my ears. The word master hit me like a sledgehammer and I knew that we had not heard the last of my mother’s mysterious “master”. As this realization slowly seeped its way into my every thought I laid my head on the table and began to sob uncontrollably.
That was a little less than two years ago now. Life has been tough for my mother and I but we have managed to survive and in some cases even found a modicum of happiness. My mother’s support group no longer meets and she has had to turn to me for support on many occasions when she felt like she was losing the battle for her sanity. About once a month my mother receives a phone call from her “master” and leaves me at home while she goes off to serve him. We tried everything we could think of to avoid his phone calls hoping to find a loophole in his mental programming but after several months of failure we quit trying to fight it and learned to adapt. Whenever my mother receives the phone call I give her a kiss on the cheek and a reassuring hug before she goes upstairs to change and, as long as I don’t try to stop her from leaving, my body responds normally. I am always awakened by my mother giving me a blow job the next morning and I discovered that sleeping in the nude saved a lot of wear and tear on my wardrobe. My mother and I had fallen into a routine and our hope of ever escaping our predicament had almost faded completely when a strange thing happened about three months ago.
I was lying in bed with my mother savagely devouring my cock and wishing that she would stop when suddenly to my surprise, and even more to her surprise, she did.
She sat back on the bed and looked at me with a stunned look on her face as I propped myself up on my elbows and looked just as stunned back at her. She smiled and started to say something but then she got a worried look on her face and several seconds later she returned to giving me a blowjob.
I lay back on the bed and almost began to cry again when I suddenly knew why she had returned to sucking my cock.
If her “master” discovered that I had been able to break his mental control over my mother, then he would come after us and he would either enslave us or kill us. I didn’t know how I knew what my mother was thinking but somehow I just knew I was right. Just as I knew that her “master” was really Larry Feldman and my father. He had used his powers to rape my mother in high school and gotten her pregnant before mentally commanding her not to tell anyone what had happened to her. “Larry the lecher” had also raped and impregnated the three other women from my mother’s support group. And although they couldn’t discuss what had happened to them, they all knew that they had experienced the same thing and had clung to each other for strength. Larry had lost interest in them after high school and everything had been going fine until my mother had accidentally run into Larry at the local mall. He had remembered her and when he read her mind and found out about the group consisting of his past “conquests” he had commanded my mother to lead him back to our place so that he could renew old acquaintances. That was about the point that I came in.
As my mother finished licking the remaining cum from my cock, I realized that I hadn’t even been aware when I orgasmed. My mind had disconnected itself from my body and had been taking a little stroll through my mother’s memories.
She sat back and looked at me pleadingly and I knew exactly what she wanted me to do. She wanted me to try and erase the fact that I was telepathic from her mind, so that if my father read her mind, he wouldn’t discover my secret until I was ready to face him.
I didn’t know what to do but I knew that if I didn’t try something that we would lose our last hope for freedom and spend the rest of our lives serving my fathers twisted desires. I closed my eyes and tried disconnecting my mind from my body again and a few moments later I was inside my mother’s mind. Her memories appeared before me like paintings in a gallery and I quickly wandered through the hallways of her life until I found her memory of discovering my abilities. I wasn’t sure what to do next so I tried wiping the memory away like erasing chalk from a chalkboard.
As the memory disappeared, my mother’s hope faded with it and I could feel her mind suddenly turn cold and dark. It was then that I realized how many times my mother had considered ending her torment by committing suicide. Her love for me was the only thing that had kept her from taking her own life. Looking around her mind I could see that only a few memories still shone brightly and I decided to head toward the brightest of them. I moved deeper into her subconscious and as I approached it, I realized that my mother’s brightest memory was of the first time she ever held me in her arms, with the Wilson’s standing by her side. With all the bad things that had happened to my mother, she had almost forgotten about the Wilson’s and how they had helped her when she needed it. I knew that my father might detect any changes I made but I needed to do something to help my mother or she might not have the strength to survive until I was ready to free us. So I set about gathering together all her memories of the Wilson’s and everything they had done for her and began moving them towards the front of her mind. As the memories began to form a line in her consciousness more memories of the Wilson’s began to appear on their own and I felt her mind suddenly become noticeably warmer and brighter. She was still not the hopeful carefree girl that she had been before she met my father but she at least had enough hope to survive until I could exact my revenge on that sick son of a bitch.
I opened my eyes and looked at my mother sitting motionless on the bed.
She blinked a couple of times then leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek before jumping off the bed and walking out the door with a spring in her step that had been missing for years. She didn’t know what I had done but she knew that she felt better and I hoped that my father wouldn’t detect my small manipulation of her memories.
As I said earlier, that was about three months ago and as far as I know my father still hasn’t found out about me. I have been practicing and developing my mental abilities, trying to prepare for the fight of my life. Every month my father still calls my mother and I now know what happens when she goes to him but the details are too sick and demented to discuss here. When my mother returns home and gives me my morning wake up call, I enter her mind and ensure that everything is still okay.
By examining my father’s manipulations, I’ve discovered that he isn’t as powerful as he appears to be. When he forced my mother to give me my first blowjob, he was so strained from controlling the four women that he had resorted to filling her mind with images of him making me jump off a building in order to make her submit willingly. I suspect that if he had tried to make me jump to my death that the strain would have fried his brain. I also discovered that he had forced me to fuck my mother’s ass by boosting my raging adolescent hormones to a level so high that I would have stuck my dick in a light socket in order to get off. What my father lacks in power, he more than makes up for in cunning and technique. I will have to be at my best to defeat him.
When I first started thinking about revenge I wanted to rip my father’s heart out and make him watch as he slowly died. Then I considered turning the tables on him and making him into my mother’s loyal and obedient slave. A vast array of other scenarios passed through my mind ranging from the grotesquely violent to the ironically comical. Then, one morning as I watched my mother eat breakfast after one of her calls, it hit me.
The pain and humiliation that my father had put me through was insignificant to the sheer torture that he had inflicted upon my mother and the other women he had raped. He had forced them to live with the knowledge of their rape everyday for thirteen years without being able to turn to anyone but each other for comfort or sympathy. And just when they had overcome the trauma of his violation of their minds and bodies and gotten on with their lives, he returned to tear it all down and reduce their hopes and dreams to rubble again. It was at that moment that I knew what his payment would be.
I searched my mother’s mind for the names and addresses of the other women that my father had raped and began tracking them down. I secretly visited each one and discovered that he had been using them much like he had been using my mother. I also discovered that Diane had lost custody of her daughter Crystal to her parents because they had dropped by one night while she was away obeying my father and found Crystal all alone. Now the only thing that keeps Diane going is her overwhelming hatred for her “master” and the dream that someday she will make him pay.
With my help, Diane is going to get her wish. One day soon Diane is going to show up at my father’s front door with Liz and Jan and my mother completely free of my father’s mental conditioning. Then, with me there to keep him from pulling any mental rabbits out of his hat, the four women whose lives he attempted to ruin are going to give him exactly what he has coming to him. And may God help him because he is going to need all the help he can get.
An article appeared in one of the back sections of today’s newspaper about a man who neighbors found bruised and battered in his apartment. When the police tried to question him about what had happened to him, all he could do was mumble incoherently. The article couldn’t provide much information about the man because her had no friends or family and didn’t even seem to have a job.
Reading this story, you may think that I did that to him but you’d be wrong. When we arrived to confront him, he quickly tried to take control of one of the women to protect himself but I easily countered his attempt. When he realized that I had deflected his attack, he immediately turned on me. He tried to control me but I was too strong for him. He then tried bombarding my mind with the most terrifying and disgusting images he could conjure up in an attempt to break me down but having seen what he had done to my mother and the other women I wasn’t phased. After several more desperate attacks on the women and me he began to see that I was stronger. That’s when the full extent of his situation hit him.
As he looked at the hatred burning in the eyes of the women before him he became terrified. He backed away from them but they kept advancing toward him. When they finally had him backed into a corner he began pleading with them for mercy but they just continued to stare at him in silence. Then suddenly he began to shake uncontrollably. For over a minute his convulsions wracked his body as he flopped about on the floor like a freshly caught fish. The women and I just watched as he trembled and quaked before falling lifelessly in a heap.
I ran to his side and found him still alive but his mind was completely shattered. I quickly sifted through the broken fragments of his memories trying to determine what had happened. By piecing together shards of his most recent memories I was able to determine that his own sick and twisted mind had imagined a far more grotesque revenge than anything I could have come up with. His own powers then turned on him and made him believe that it was really happening until his mind couldn’t take it anymore and collapsed in on itself. He’ll probably spend the rest of his life in an institution.
The women tried hitting and kicking him but they quickly lost interest when he didn’t respond. As a final parting joke, he had gotten the last word by robbing them of the vengeance they had dreamed about for so long.
Now that my father is gone, I’m hoping that things will start to return to normal. I’m almost sixteen and my mother doesn’t know it yet but she’s going to buy me a car for my sixteenth birthday. Then there’s this girl at school. She used to ignore me all the time but lately I’ve been using her to practice my abilities. The other day she let me fondle her tits in the boy’s room between classes and this weekend I’m thinking of taking her virginity. I think having this power is going to be a lot of fun and it’s not like I’m hurting anyone. After all, I’m not my father.